<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Devious Games by starlightwalking</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450823">Devious Games</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking'>starlightwalking</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Analingus, Awkward Boners, Begging, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Diving, Dom/sub, First Time, Gentle Sex, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Married Sex, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Pre-Relationship, Reunion Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Size Kink, Soul Bond, Spanking, Swimming, Switching, a brief sexual mishap but things turn out fine, that's it that's the fic.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:47:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Findekáno is aware he has something of an affectation for the large, but the first time he gets a good look at Russandol’s dick is still a bit more than he’s prepared for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyelperinqwar/gifts">tyelperinqwar</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_one_iota/gifts">just_one_iota</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is, once again, Nory's fault. And also quiet's. You simply must stop aiding and abetting me in writing Russingon porn. (I'm joking, never stop 💖)</p><p>This has 3 chapters; I'll post the next two in the coming days. Not super satisfied with the title but it works well enough, I suppose.</p><p>This first chapter is probably rated M rather than E, but the next two will definitely be E. Chapter 1 also features an ensemble cast of annoying brothers :)</p><p>Oh, and happy Valentine's day, I guess? And happy 200th Silm fic to me!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Exactly what it says on the tin.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a swimming trip, with him and his brother and their cousins; the older ones, anyway. Írissë whined that it wasn’t fair she couldn’t come, but she had stumbled into that uncomfortable age where seeing your half-cousins naked stopped being completely inconsequential and started to have the potential to be deeply embarrassing—or worse, <em>tempting</em>.</p><p>Findekáno knew that phase of life very well. It was when the first fantasies of Russandol had begun to haunt his dreams, and many of his waking hours, also. Of course, calling it a <em>phase</em> implied he had grown out of it, which...well, he had at least gotten better at controlling himself. </p><p>And however unfair it might be, the standards for growing níssi were different from those for growing néri, and thus poor Írissë was barred from joining their trip on this occasion while Findekáno was granted the privilege of appreciating the sight of his cousins’ bare hröar—though truly there was only one he wished to see in such a state.</p><p>Findekáno had never actually seen Russandol <em>naked </em>before, only mostly unclothed, for he was a fairly modest fellow and usually wore some kind of shorts even when swimming. Still, a shirtless Russandol was more than enough to ensure Findekáno did not forget his amilessë was <em>Maitimo</em>.</p><p>Russandol’s brothers were far more cavalier about nudity. Tyelkormo seemed to make a point of wearing as little clothing as possible; Makalaurë appreciated the warmth of Laurelin’s rays all over his body; Curufinwë knew he was pretty and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. Carnistir preferred to cover up, but he was impossible to drag out on trips like these—and the twins were still the sort of tiny toddlers who viewed clothes as a cruel device made to oppress them personally.</p><p>But Maitimo...</p><p>Russandol was pale enough that it was obvious when he blushed, more so even than the fairer of his brothers. Was it the red hair that did it? Findekáno wondered. Did some of its color dust down onto Russandol’s shapely body, dotting him with freckles and staining him an attractive red when he was even the slightest bit off-balance?</p><p>(And what would it look like if F—if <em>someone</em> were bold enough to take a hand to his round backside? Would it leave a mark as red as his flush?)</p><p>...he didn’t think about that. Most of the time.</p><p>The truth was that unlike other néri their age, those who had just come into adulthood and with it a confidence with their hröar, Maitimo was clothed more often than not even when the situation permitted nudity. He was always clothed <em>well</em>; the grandson of Míriel Serindë would not be dressed in rags, and he had a way of making everything fashionable so long as he wore it. And Findekáno was content to appreciate that, even tempted on occasion to gift his favorite cousin with garments of his own, just to see Russo dressed up in clothes <em>he</em> gave him, as if he belonged to Findekáno, as if he would consent to Finno clothing and unclothing him at will—</p><p>But such thoughts were dangerous, he reminded himself, and he never acted on them.</p><p>Still, any chance he had to see Russandol wearing less than usual, no matter how comely he looked in his robes, was one Findekáno could not pass up. So he dragged Turukáno along with him to the lake, bribing him with the promise that Ingoldo would be there also and leaving Írissë pouting and in charge of baby Arakáno, just to get the chance to see Russo almost naked.</p><p>He had not counted on seeing Russandol <em>entirely</em> naked—and even if he <em>had</em> entertained the idea, he had not counted on losing his cool entirely.</p><p>Russandol was already in the water when Findekáno and Turukáno arrived. Tyelkormo and Makalaurë were there also, and Ingoldo, but his eyes were all for Russo.</p><p>“Moryo refused to come, the spoilsport,” Káno sighed when Turno asked where the rest of the Fëanárian brood was. “And, well, if we’ve decided that Írissë’s too young then Curvo is too, not to mention the twins.”</p><p>“We just don’t want any girls ruining our fun!” Tyelko hollered, and Findekáno rolled his eyes. As if Tyelko would say such a thing to Rissi’s face!</p><p>But it was Russandol who chided him. “Don’t act like you’re not grumpy she’s not here,” he scolded. “Next time we should invite <em>everyone</em>.”</p><p>“But Maitimo, that means we’ll have to be <em>modest</em>,” Ingo drawled, rising out of the water to stretch his comely and entirely nude torso. “You know the níssi couldn’t handle seeing—”</p><p>“That is <em>quite</em> enough,” Russandol said firmly, his authoritative tone ruined only by the blush that crept down his neck.</p><p>Findekáno forced himself to look away. It was time he and Turno joined their cousins, anyway. “Well, let’s not waste this opportunity, then!” he exclaimed gaily.</p><p>He shimmied out of his clothes, pointedly not turning to see if Russo was watching, tugged at Turno’s shirt for good measure, then leapt into the lake with a whoop of joy. An enormous splash soaked everyone in the vicinity, including the only half-undressed Turukáno, and as he went under he heard everyone complaining about his theatrics.</p><p>Findekáno resurfaced with a grin, just inches from Russandol, who rolled his eyes fondly.</p><p>“Always the showoff,” Russo teased. “I know you like to splash, but there’s nothing wrong with a graceful dive.”</p><p>“Why don’t you show me, then?” Findekáno challenged, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop and think. The sight of Maitimo’s long, lithe body cutting into the water was sure to be breathtaking.</p><p>“Yeah, Nelyo,” Káno called. “You’ve been awfully shy about ‘showing off’ yourself, despite your talk!”</p><p>“We <em>know</em> you’ve got it in you,” Tyelko added with a smirk.</p><p>Russandol sighed. “If you insist!” he exclaimed.</p><p>He rose from the water like an Ainu from the sea, droplets running down his muscled back and sparkling in the Treelight. He climbed out onto the bank and up to an outcrop over the deepest water—but Findekáno barely noticed the path he took.</p><p>Russandol was <em>nude</em>. Not just mostly, <em>entirely</em>, and Findekáno’s heart caught in his throat.</p><p>He was not going to look.</p><p>He was <em>not</em> going to look.</p><p>And, well, if he <em>did</em> look—<em>accidentally</em>, definitely not on purpose—if he caught a glimpse of, of Russo’s front, he was <em>not</em> going to stare.</p><p>He lost his internal battle when it came to staring at Russo’s backside, though. The curve of his ass was divine—great Eru, somehow it looked even better with his trouser off. Findekáno was abruptly <em>very</em> glad he was mostly underwater, so no one else could see just how deeply he was affected. And Russandol hadn’t even—</p><p>He turned around, stretching before his dive, and Findekáno lost any sense of composure. He slipped and ducked underwater, mortified.</p><p>He thought he’d adequately prepared for the sight of Russandol’s dick given how often it featured in his shameful midnight fantasies, but the problem was that the dick he’d been imagining was—while impressive—not like the real thing at all.</p><p>Clearly, he’d needed to think bigger.</p><p>(He would be doing <em>a lot</em> of thinking. And it would <em>all</em> be <em>very big</em>.</p><p>Just like Russandol’s—)</p><p>Findekáno poked his head back up, just his eyes and nose, and heard Káno and Tyelko laughing. Thankfully his own brother, and Ingo, seemed relatively oblivious, caught up in their own conversation.</p><p>“What’s the matter, cousin?” Káno inquired, eyes glinting. Oh, Finno was going to <em>kill him</em>.</p><p>He shot Makalaurë a glare, and then nearly went under <em>again</em> when Russandol called out, “Finno? Are you alright?”</p><p>Inexorably, Findekáno found his gaze dragged back up to Maitimo. <em>His face, look at his face,</em> he told himself desperately, but his eyes refused to obey, instead settling on the space between Russo’s legs.</p><p>Oh, <em>Valar</em>.</p><p>He was <em>massive</em>.</p><p>Findekáno knew he himself was a short young nér, but he was not poorly endowed. Indeed, for someone of his height, he rather thought his cock to be on the larger side of average.</p><p>But Maitimo...well, Maitimo was <em>tall</em>. He wasn’t particularly bulky—long, limber, lean—and Findekáno had imagined his cock would be proportionate to the rest of his hröa. In other words: big, surely bigger than Findekáno himself.</p><p>But in reality, Russandol proved to be more than just <em>proportionate.</em> Maybe Findekáno had been underestimating Russo’s height in comparison to his own; maybe he just hadn’t had the imagination to—to stretch him out a bit. But it wasn’t just the length. Russandol was skinny, in an attractive way, but his cock was—not.</p><p>And—if this was Maitimo <em>soft</em>—</p><p>Varda’s heavens, how big would he be when he was <em>hard</em>?</p><p>Findekáno was aware he had something of an affectation for the large. (The erotica he’d snuck from the library in Tirion, the one about that Maia of Tulkas who didn’t really exist laying waste to a hapless maiden of the Teleri, had been perused so thoroughly and frequently that it was falling apart at the seams.) He had even stealthily purchased some, ah, <em>toys</em> from the night market with which he had...practiced, on occasion, imagining Russandol stretching him open instead of cool stone.</p><p>But if he ever planned on seducing Russo for real—and he hoped to, someday, when his resolve was stronger and his own beauty enhanced to, if not <em>match</em> Russo’s own, then at least not to embarrass him when seen in Finno’s company—well, he’d need something bigger to practice with. If he was careful, the shopkeeper at that stall wouldn’t recognize him as a prince. Hopefully.</p><p>“Finno?” Russandol asked again, and he remembered that he’d been asked a question.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he squeaked out. “Just—slipped.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Russo said, the care in his voice so sincere that Findekáno thought he might faint.</p><p>He was assaulted by a sudden fantasy of Russandol saying the same thing to him, <em>Are you sure,</em> but looming over him in the dark, his massive cock full and pressed right up against Finno’s ass—and of course he would say <em>yes yes yes please</em> because he’d wanted this so desperately for so long, and then Russo would give him what he wanted and Findekáno would—he would—</p><p>“I’m sure,” he replied faintly, squeezing his thighs together in a futile attempt to will his cock to <em>stop reacting like this, he’s just naked, it isn’t sexual, he doesn’t even </em>like<em> you like that—</em></p><p>“Well, alright,” Russo accepted. “But don’t look <em>down</em>, Finno. Don’t you want to watch me dive?”</p><p>Findekáno looked up, and this time he managed to settle his gaze on Russandol’s face, lit with a radiant smile. As if he were smiling just for him.</p><p>And then Russandol leapt, his body soaring through the air in a perfect arc, slicing into the still water with barely a splash at all.</p><p>Findekáno felt dizzy.</p><p>Russo didn’t resurface for a moment, and Findekáno worried suddenly that he’d hurt himself, but then he felt a tickle at his legs and yelped, falling back underwater. He caught a blurry glimpse of Russandol’s mischievous grin and realized with horror that Russo had been <em>face level with his thighs</em>.</p><p>But when Russo rose out of the water again, laughing as his curtain of red hair splashed droplets all over the water, he said nothing about Findekáno’s...condition. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed.</p><p>“I still think a big splash is more fun,” Findekáno said faintly, and when Russo quirked an eyebrow at him he knew he had to leave.</p><p>“I gotta—take a piss,” he blurted out, scrambling out of the lake and running into the surrounding woods he could humiliate himself even more.</p><p>He thought he heard laughter behind him, but he couldn’t tell if it was Russo. He was too distracted by the ache in his cock, biting his lip to keep quiet as he frantically jerked himself to the thought of Russandol fucking him senseless with that big and beautiful dick.</p>
<hr/><p>“So,” Makalaurë drawled, backstroking near to Maitimo, “do you think he’ll get up the nerve to proposition you anytime soon?”</p><p>“Shut up,” Maitimo hissed, and he was <em>not</em> thinking about the brief glimpse of Findekáno’s hard cock he’d gotten beneath the water. At least, he’d thought it was hard. Maybe in his need to impress Finno he had taken to imagining things.</p><p>“Well, he’s got <em>something</em> up right now,” Tyelkormo sniggered.</p><p>“Shut <em>up</em>!” Maitimo snapped, kicking a wave of water toward him. He was almost regretting listening to his brothers about taking his shorts off for this swim. Almost.</p><p>“He took one look at your dick and started salivating,” Makalaurë said drily. “I think that means he likes you.”</p><p>Maitimo was positive he had turned bright red all over. This was part of why he didn’t like undressing; he showed his every feeling on his skin.</p><p>“He doesn’t like me like that,” he insisted, and he had to believe it, because Findekáno was notoriously brave and if he <em>did</em> surely he’d have said something.</p><p>“Rissi says he’s got a secret stash of—” Tyelko began, and this time Maitimo actually kicked him.</p><p>By the time Findekáno returned from relieving himself, absolutely normal and cheery-faced, even Ingo and Turno had gotten in on the water fight, and all thoughts of activities less cousinly than roughhousing were forgotten.</p><p>And if Findekáno was a little more zealous in defending Maitimo from his brothers than was strictly necessary—well, Maitimo wasn’t going to complain about being picked up by those strong arms and tossed into safer waters.</p><p>In fact, he was rather certain, deep down, that he’d be revisiting the memory of Finno holding him close later that night...and he might be borrowing from his <em>own</em> secret stash while he did so.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Findekáno gets what he wants, if not in the exact way he expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter is just, finno's size kink vs. maitimo's desperate need to get fucked<br/>cw for things not going exactly as planned BUT everything turns out fine in the end!!! don't worry!!!</p><p>(and sorry for the delay in updating, my laptop died like an hour after i posted chapter 1 and i had to wait until my new one arrived before uploading this chapter. final chapter should be up tomorrow, barring any further unforeseen circumstances!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and Findekáno thought he might faint from lack of air, but to take his lips off Russo’s was unthinkable. It was just as good as he’d imagined, hot and passionate and overwhelming, and he never wanted it to end.</p><p>He tumbled Russandol down onto his bed, climbing on top of him and biting at his lips. He rutted against Russo’s thigh, already painfully hard, and the desperate little moans Russandol was making as he fisted his hands in Findekáno’s hair only drove him wilder.</p><p>Why had he <em>ever</em> thought this was something he needed to wait for? Why had he ever worried Russandol wouldn’t want him back, when it was so obvious that he too was consumed by the same hunger that gnawed away at Findekáno’s gut, the same fire that blazed in his heart?</p><p>Oh Valar, Russo was hard too, Findekáno realized dizzily, and suddenly remembered that swimming trip where he’d first seen Maitimo naked and—</p><p>“I need—” he gasped into Russandol’s mouth, too lust-filled to be embarrassed at just how desperate he was.</p><p>“Yes,” Russandol groaned. “Please—Finno, I love you, I <em>need</em> you—”</p><p>Findekáno thought his heart would burst out of his chest, so full of joy was he. “I love you,” he croaked, fighting back tears because it felt so <em>good</em> to say. “I’ll take care of you, Russo, I promise.”</p><p>He pressed his forehead against Russandol’s, and their minds met and melded for just a moment. He felt a wave of emotion, a pure love tempered by carnal lust, and he was astonished by just how much Russandol wanted <em>him</em>, wanted him to be rough, to order him around, to make him and mark him as <em>Findekáno’s</em>. And oh, Findekáno wanted nothing more than to possess him utterly, had wanted that for many long years.</p><p>“Please,” Russandol gasped, shoving a mental image at him of Findekáno striking him until his skin turned red, of his hole spread wide and dripping with Findekáno’s come, of him weeping as Findekáno fucked his throat. “Finno, I’m—if you don’t wish to be so cruel I understand, but I want—I need—”</p><p>Findekáno pinched him, and Russandol’s yelp fell into a long moan.</p><p>“I would want anything you want,” he assured, “but it seems our fëar are suited for each other, my love. What you need from me is exactly what I have yearned to give you.”</p><p>“Please, please,” and <em>oh</em> he was so pretty when he begged. “Findekáno, please fuck me, I need you, I n-need your cock—”</p><p>And of course Findekáno would give it to him—how could he resist?—but here he hesitated for just a moment.</p><p>“Was that—too much?” Russandol asked quickly. “If you don’t want—or not right away—I know this is fast, but I’ve wanted you for, for a decade, longer, I—”</p><p>“It’s only that I’ve wanted <em>you</em> to fuck <em>me</em> since I first knew desire,” Findekáno interrupted. “I—Russo, you’re—”</p><p>“I don’t want to hurt you,” Russandol whispered, his silver eyes wide and shining. “I’m—well, I’m big, there, and you’re—rather small—”</p><p>“Russandol, the first time I saw your cock I nearly came on the spot,” Findekáno informed him. “I know how big you are; I like big things, especially up my ass.” He grinned. “That day, that swimming trip—the next week I went to the night market and bought the biggest toys I could find, so I could teach my hröa to welcome yours. I, ah—I want you as hard and thick and long as possible.”</p><p>“Finno,” Maitimo gasped, turning, if possible, even redder than he was already. “I—you—”</p><p>Findekáno kissed him. “I want every last inch of you,” he growled. “Please, Russo, please fuck me—make me, take me, own me—I want to feel nothing but you for—a week after you’ve ruined me—”</p><p>“B-but I want,” and ai, he was <em>whining</em>! “I will, I promise, Finno, but I need you—”</p><p>Findekáno tugged at his hair, and Russandol’s head lolled back, his eyes glazing over.</p><p>“We’ll take turns,” he said firmly. “I want to fuck you, Russo, I want that very much. And later, would you—?”</p><p>“Yes, <em>yes</em>,” Maitimo slurred. “Of course I want that—I need your cock, but I n-need your, your ass too—if you’ll let me—”</p><p>“Then do what I say, and you’ll get what I need,” Findekáno ordered, a heady rush flowing through him as he took command.</p><p>Russandol’s eyes widened, and he went limp. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, my prince...”</p><p>Findekáno had to lean back and get ahold of himself before he—he didn’t even know; before he wept or came or passed out? They all seemed equally likely. Valar, they were—this was <em>real</em>. They were really doing this. And Russandol was at his mercy—he could have anything from him—<em>my prince,</em> he’d said, and to be granted such power was intoxicating. He could wait a little longer for his turn to be taken, if he could do <em>this </em>in the meantime.</p><p>“Finno?” Russandol asked. “Are you...are we stopping?” He bit his lip. “Did I say something—?”</p><p>“No, no,” Findekáno assured. “I just—I needed a moment, it’s all—you’re just—everything,” he said helplessly. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted, and so much more. You are...you’re everything.”</p><p>Maitimo sat up, pulling him into another kiss. Findekáno surrendered, a different kind of giddiness overwhelming him, and only refocused when he felt his lover tugging at his shirt.</p><p>“We should, maybe, know how to stop if we need to,” Findekáno murmured, lifting his arms to help Russandol along. “Especially if—if we’re playing this game, where one of us is in charge?”</p><p>“Mm,” Russandol rumbled, running possessive hands all over Findekáno’s torso. “Yes...I want you to order me around. And I—I think I’d like to treat you like you’re mine, too. But we...yes, something.”</p><p>“Is ‘stop’ enough?” Findekáno said. “Or just ‘no’?”</p><p>“Probably,” Russandol agreed. “And—breaking character along with it? But I guess sometimes you might—need another moment—or I might get too caught up in, in loving you...”</p><p>Findekáno kissed him, the thought so sweet and so <em>Russo</em> that he couldn’t help but adore him even more. “Let’s try this, then?” he said in a husky whisper. “I’ll go first. Are you ready for me?”</p><p>“I always have been,” Maitimo croaked.</p><p>Findekáno shoved him aside, rising to his feet and towering over him in the way he could only do when Russandol was lying down, entirely at his mercy. He luxuriated in the feeling for a moment, raking his gaze over Russandol’s shapely body, before deciding he was wearing far too many clothes.</p><p>“Strip,” he commanded, and Russandol rose instantly, shrugging off his shirt and loosening his belt. He was so meek about it, even despite how much bigger he was than Finno, and the devotion in his eyes was almost enough to drown Findekáno in his love.</p><p>Findekáno sat still and staring, mesmerized by Russandol’s beauty. Slowly, his lover grew more confident: Russo swayed for him, loosening his trousers and letting them fall down his thighs bit by bit with each sensuous roll of his hips. His underclothes showed an impressive bulge, and he <em>winked</em> at Findekáno, driving him wild.</p><p>Findekáno was torn between just <em>watching</em> him—letting Russandol show him everything, taking it all in—and an immense frustration and need to <em>get it over with</em> and fuck him already. After a moment’s indecision, he caved, pouncing on Russandol and tearing the rest of his clothes off. He felt Russo tugging at the last of his own robes, and he flung them off so they were both naked. Then they were kissing again and Russo shifted so their cocks pressed together, and Findekáno felt stars burst behind his eyes.</p><p>“You feel—so good—” he gasped, though he was loath to turn from Russo’s face, he had to look down to stare at their cocks rubbing against each other, both leaking precome, and he whimpered at the sight.</p><p>“Russo,” Findekáno choked out, because <em>how</em> was it <em>possible</em> for a nér to be that large? Maybe his mind was addled with lust and making him see things, but he could <em>feel</em> it, too, and had never wanted anything more.</p><p>“Finno, Finno, please,” Russandol babbled. “I need—”</p><p>But Russo came first; he always came first. And—<em>hah</em>—Findekáno would make sure that he came first this time, too.</p><p>“Roll over,” he ordered, and he’d planned to reach for his bottle of oil, but the sight of Maitimo’s round, inviting ass was simply too tempting. He remembered what Russo had asked for, roughness, and impulsively brought his flat palm down, hard.</p><p>The <em>noise</em> Russandol made—as soon as he heard it, Findekáno knew he needed to hear it again. He repeated the slap, noting how well Russo flushed for him, and heard Russo <em>sob</em>.</p><p>“Please, more, please,” he begged, rutting into the mattress, and Findekáno climbed on top of him, trying to see his face and his ass at the same time (impossible for someone as tall as Russo but, well, an attempt was made) before hitting him again, again, again, <em>again</em>—</p><p>Russandol shuddered and moaned, a long, guttural sound that made Findekáno’s own neglected cock jerk, and he watched in fascination as Russo’s eyes rolled back into his head as he came onto Findekáno’s sheets.</p><p>“Wow,” Findekáno croaked, awed by Russo’s beauty, by the power he held over this nér he loved. “Russo, you’re...”</p><p>“Yours,” Russandol whispered, rolling over to reveal a stomach sticky with seed. “Thank you, yours, always, please...”</p><p>Findekáno could not ignore his own need any longer. He fumbled for the oil, opening it with shaking hands, and before he could even ask Russandol’s legs fell open to expose his hole. Findekáno’s mouth watered, and he was so tempted to worship him with his mouth—but he couldn’t wait any longer. There would be time for that later.</p><p>“Are you—” he asked, slicking his fingers, and Russandol didn’t wait for him to finish, moaning out, “<em>Yes, please,</em>” and Findekáno pressed a finger inside him.</p><p>Russandol was so relaxed from orgasm that Findekáno was met with little resistance. He moaned, <em>feeling</em> it when Russandol sighed happily.</p><p>“You’re so good, you’re opening up so well for me,” he murmured, adding another finger. Russandol whimpered and shifted, pulling Finno closer with his legs, and then Findekáno was stretching him, pumping his fingers in and out, and the needy little noises Russo was making overwhelmed him. He clumsily poured more oil onto his hand, shoving three fingers in, then four, and then when he couldn’t take it any longer he coated his length and aligned himself with Russo’s stretched, dripping hole.</p><p>“I love you,” he hissed, and pressed inside.</p><p>It was—he couldn’t even describe it. Russandol <em>wailed</em>, tugging him closer, until Findekáno was seated fully within him, encased in his welcoming flesh. Findekáno had dreamed of this moment, though not so often as he had in the reverse, but this—this was—he couldn’t even—</p><p>“Please,” Russandol wept. “Please—<em>fuck</em> me, Finno—”</p><p>Findekáno drew almost all the way out, then slammed back in, and soon he wasn’t sure anymore where Russo stopped and he began, and did it even matter when they were one like this?</p><p>He set a brutal pace, rough like Russandol wanted it, and leaned down to kiss his lover. Elation overwhelmed him; this was <em>real</em>, he was <em>fucking</em> Russo, Russo <em>loved</em> him—!</p><p>“Finno, my Findekáno,” Russandol groaned, sitting up and meeting his every thrust. Their hands tangled together, and Russo croaked out words of endless love: “I’ve loved you for years, a decade, more, I’ve wanted you for so long, that day at the lake when you saw me, I hoped, but I didn’t know, but you were so beautiful, I knew you had to be mine, I knew—” he choked— “I knew I’d been yours since the day I first saw you—”</p><p>“<em>Russandol</em>,” Findekáno cried, burying himself as deep within him as he could, and then he was coming, spilling inside his beloved, and felt Russo coming again too—because of <em>him</em>!—and the feeling of his channel clenching around him was enough to make Finno sob with ecstasy.</p><p>He slumped down on top of Russandol, and felt his lover tug him close, running fingers through his hair. Finno had never felt more safe, more loved; and dear Ilúvatar, he was <em>still inside</em> of Russo...</p><p>After a few minutes of catching their breath, Findekáno groaned and pulled out. Russandol shuddered, whimpering a little, but Findekáno barely heard. His eyes were fixed on the filthy sight of his own come dripping out of Russo’s hole. It was debauched and disgusting and beautiful, and Finno had never felt so proud.</p><p>“Finno...” Russandol breathed. “You—you have unmade me.”</p><p>Findekáno kissed him, sloppy and lazy and heedless of the mess between them—or, no, he knew it was there and he delighted in it. The only thing that might possibly be better was Russandol’s seed leaking out of him.</p><p>“I’ve been practicing,” he admitted shyly, though he thought he’d confessed this already. “Not—to fuck you, thought that was—” he shuddered— “<em>amazing</em>, we should <em>definitely</em> do it again...but to—to take you. Without hurting myself. I’ve got—some toys—”</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Findekáno,” Maitimo growled, and rolled them over so he was on top, kissing them fiercely. “You’ve—you made me come, <em>twice</em>, and you were <em>inside </em>me and I can still feel it, and you’ve made my every dream come true, but you—you’re too perfect, did you know that?” He buried his face in Findekáno’s shoulder for a moment. “I didn’t think—I didn’t know there could be <em>anything</em> hotter than you fucking me senseless but I <em>need</em>—to see that—you getting ready for—for <em>me</em>—” He choked up.</p><p>“For you,” Findekáno whispered. “Always, only for you...”</p><p>Russandol kissed him into the mattress, and Findekáno felt himself getting hard again. Stars, it was going to happen, wasn’t it? Russandol was going to fuck him, shove that preposterous cock of his deep inside of him, make him finally, <em>finally</em> whole...</p><p>“Let me see you,” Russandol begged. “Please—I’ll do anything—”</p><p>Findekáno laughed in delight. “Fuck me when I’m ready, and you can watch me get there as much as you want,” he promised. “It’s—that drawer—no, below that—yes. If you unroll the blue stockings—”</p><p>Russandol squeaked, nearly dropping the toy. “Finno, this is—” he choked out. “I—I mean—Finno, I’m not <em>this</em> big!”</p><p>“Then I’ll have no problem taking you,” Finno reasoned. “Alright—I do need to, ah, work up to that... The yellow stockings—yes, that one, I’ll take that first. Pass me the oil?”</p><p>He’d done this a hundred times or more; it was as natural as breathing to slick his fingers, press them inside himself. Findekáno sighed, relaxing, nearly closing his eyes—but he didn’t need to conjure any images of Russandol this time, because Russo was <em>here</em>, watching him, present and <em>real.</em></p><p>And indeed, Russo was staring at him with fierce, blazing eyes, and that alone made Findekáno choke out a moan. Then he brushed that spot inside of him, felt his cock filling again, imagined Russandol leaning down to taste—</p><p>Eru, he could <em>have</em> that. He moaned again, stretching his hole, presenting himself to Russandol. Russo whimpered, swallowing, and croaked out, “Finno—you—are so b-beautful...”</p><p>“Come here, melindo,” Findekáno begged, and then Russo was there, kissing him hard, his own erection rutting against Finno’s leg. Stars, he needed that thick cock inside him, but he had to work up to it—no matter how worth it would be if Russandol fucked him into Mandos, he knew Russo cared for him, wanted to be safe, and truly the thought of having to wait to be reembodied before they could have sex again was too much.</p><p>Findekáno was loose enough now for the smaller toy. He eased his fingers out of himself, fumbled the toy, and pushed it in, maybe a little harder than he should have. Yet the bright burst of pain only made him buck up onto Russo, smearing precome on his stomach, and Russandol drew back to look at him again.</p><p>“Can I—” he began, and in the same moment Findekáno blurted out, “Would you—”</p><p>They locked eyes with each other and giggled. Findekáno shifted, slowly fucking himself with the toy, and thrust his hips into the air invitingly.</p><p>“Please,” he whispered.</p><p>Russandol seemed to know what he wanted. He bent and kissed the head of Findekáno’s cock, licked a stripe down it, and Finno let out a breathless whine, so lost in the sight of Russo worshipping him that he almost didn’t take note of the incredible sensation.</p><p>And then Russo closed his mouth around his cock, and <em>oh</em>—he <em>felt</em> that.</p><p>With his free hand he grabbed Russandol’s hair and <em>pulled</em>, and Russo groaned, jerking forward, taking Findekáno deeper—oh, this was better than he’d ever dreamed—if he wasn’t careful he was going to let go too soon—</p><p>Russo’s hand fumbled to clutch at his own, squeezing tenderly, bobbing his head with joyful tears in his eyes. Findekáno could almost hear his thoughts, how honored he was to do this for his prince, how he’d wanted this for so long...</p><p>His <em>other</em> hand moved, then, curling around the base of the plug as Finno moved it in and out of himself, and it was with impossible strength that he thrust it in, and Findekáno <em>screamed</em>, coming down his throat in hot pulses.</p><p>Russandol drank his seed down greedily, licking his lips, lapping at his twitching cock for more, and Findekáno couldn’t—he just—how could it possibly get <em>better</em> than this? he wondered hazily, falling back, so loose and pliant now that the toy slipped out of its own accord.</p><p>“Findekáno,” Maitimo whispered. “Did I—was that—good?”</p><p>“Better than perfect,” Findekáno rasped. “Come up here and kiss me, love.”</p><p>Russandol met his lips eagerly, and Findekáno tasted himself on his lover’s tongue. The sensation was so erotic that he began to harden again, and with Russo’s impossible length riding his thigh he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.</p><p>“Please,” he gasped. “Russo, please, I need you inside me—”</p><p>“The other toy—”</p><p>“I need <em>you</em>,” Findekáno begged. “Not a toy, I’ve had enough of toys, I need <em>you</em>, please please please—”</p><p>Russandol groaned settling on top of Findekáno with eyes so dark they were almost black. “You’re sure—?” he asked, but he was lining himself up and oh <em>Eru</em>, <em>yes</em>—</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Findekáno cried, and Russandol kissed him as he slowly pressed inside.</p><p>It was—it was—it was more than Findekáno had imagined. He whined, stretched impossibly wide, and struggled to keep from spending immediately, so intense was the sensation. He clung to Russandol, feeling him, the stretch more than he was used to, turning almost to a burn—</p><p>Russandol stopped, and Findekáno realized he was trembling. “F-Finno,” he croaked. “I’m...I don’t think...”</p><p>Through the haze Findekáno could only mumble, he wasn’t even sure what.</p><p>“I don’t think I can—” Russo sounded <em>frightened</em>. “If I go any further I’ll get—stuck—this isn’t—”</p><p>Oil. Oil would help. Finno pushed the bottle into Russo’s hands, willed himself to relax. He wanted this <em>so much</em>, if Russo stopped he would cry, and if Russo changed his mind that would be fine but if it was just a matter of Finno’s hröa not cooperating...</p><p>Russo gently poured oil where they were joined. Findekáno shivered, going limp. Russo was only in just past the head of his cock, Finno needed <em>more</em>...</p><p>But when Russandol tried again, pushing just a bit further, Findekáno choked back a pained cry. Ai, Eru, it wasn’t supposed to <em>hurt</em> like that—!</p><p>“Finno?” Russo hissed.</p><p>“G-get out of me,” Findekáno wept. “I’m—not ready, fuck—I’m sorry, I just—want you so bad—”</p><p>Slowly, Russo eased himself out of Findekáno, and though the pain subsided, now he ached with the loss. Finno rolled over and hit his pillow, tears of frustration rolling down his cheeks. It wasn’t <em>fair</em> for Russandol to have such a large and lovely cock and yet not be able to use it! It wasn’t <em>fair</em> that they’d come so close and had to stop! If they could only ever do this with Finno on top—well, that was amazing, and if Russo never wanted sex at all Finno would still love him to the ends of Arda and back again—but they both <em>wanted</em>—</p><p>“Shh, Finno, sh, it’s alright,” Russandol whispered, lying down half on top of him, his weight comforting and grounding. “I’m sorry, we can try again later, I’m so sorry...”</p><p>“’S’not <em>your</em> fault,” Findekáno mumbled miserably. “’S’<em>mine</em>.”</p><p>“No—!”</p><p>Findekáno kissed him, letting his frustration bleed out into the action. After a moment’s hesitation, Russo kissed back.</p><p>“The toy,” Findekáno said huskily. “I—I was impatient, but...a little more, and then we’ll try again? I know I can take the toy—and don’t be modest, Maitimo, you’re just as big. I just—need more preparation, I guess.”</p><p>Russandol frowned, worry still shining in his eyes. “Are you...” He shook his head. “I mean—I know you <em>want</em> this, I don’t doubt <em>that</em>, but Finno...we can take it slow. Try again later. I know—I know I’ve already had a good time...”</p><p>“Do <em>you</em> not want...?” Finno asked, failing to keep the tremor from his voice.</p><p>“No, I—I<em> do</em>, but—I don’t want to hurt you,” Russo hurried to explain. “Findekáno, I—I love you, and we have forever. We don’t need to rush.”</p><p>Findekáno sniffed. “I know,” he murmured. “And...you’re right...but if we stopped now I think I’d just feel upset about the whole thing, and I <em>don’t</em> want that. Our first time...I always imagined it would be perfect.”</p><p>“<em>You</em> are perfect,” Russandol said fiercely. “Our first time doing—this—it can happen later. We could try again tomorrow, even. I just don’t want to—to make things <em>worse</em>—”</p><p>“One more try?” Findekáno pleaded. “Please, Russo. For me? And if it doesn’t—if we still can’t—then we’ll try again later. But I...” He sighed. “I know we have nothing but time, but I’ve already waited so long...”</p><p>“Alright,” Russandol agreed slowly. “One more try. What do you want me to do?”</p><p>Findekáno handed him the larger toy. It started off narrower than it ended, so he could work up to it—but he’d taken the whole thing before. He <em>knew</em> he could do this.</p><p>“Slowly,” he rasped. “And—thank you. I love you.”</p><p>Russandol kissed him as he pushed the toy inside of him. Findekáno moaned, breath hitching as it hit that spot inside of him. Ai, it felt good again—and he let himself relax, surrendering to Russandol’s careful ministrations.</p><p>Russo teased him for—for hours, it felt like, though he had long since lost track of time. Maitimo was drowning him in kisses, slicking him with obscene amounts of oil, gently stretching his hole, massaging his shoulders, his back, his thighs, until Findekáno was like wet clay in his hands, his body molding to Russo’s desire. Russandol pumped the toy in and out of him, almost the whole, thick length of it, drawing out little whimpers from Findekáno, bringing him just to the edge and then backing off again.</p><p>Findekáno had never felt more open in his <em>life</em>, and he <em>knew</em> now that he was ready. He was so loose, so pliant—he could take Russo now. He really <em>was</em> ready this time.</p><p><em>Please</em>, he thought, too wrecked to speak the words aloud. <em>Please, please, I can take you now, please...</em></p><p>Russandol kissed him again, slicked his cock, and slid the toy from him. Finno’s hole twitched, feeling empty and lonely, needing to be filled.</p><p>“Okay,” Russo whispered. “You’re—really ready this time?”</p><p>“Yes,” Findekáno whispered. “<em>Please</em>.”</p><p>“I love you,” Russandol croaked, and tried again.</p><p>This time it was smoother. Findekáno shuddered as Russandol filled him, a wave of lazy pleasure curling through his stomach. <em>Yes.</em> This—<em>this</em> was what he’d wanted all these years. Russo kept going—and <em>going</em>—ai, he was as thick as the toy, but <em>longer</em>—until all Findekáno could feel was him.</p><p>Consumed in utter bliss, he sighed. “Mm,” he said. “’M—you—”</p><p>“Are you alright?” Russandol asked, finally settling his full length inside of him.</p><p>“Perfect,” Findekáno whispered. “Russo...my Russo...Russonya...you feel so good... ’M so full...”</p><p>“It’s good, isn’t it,” Russandol murmured, his voice going low and raspy. “Eru—if I feel half as good in you as you did in me...”</p><p><span>Findekáno</span> moaned at the memory, shifting his hips slightly, his cock throbbing. “M-move?” he asked. “I won’t...I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”</p><p>“Yes,” Russandol agreed, and drew back before pushing in again at <em>just</em> the right angle.</p><p>Findekáno lay back and let his Russo make sweet love to him. This wasn’t what he’d imagined—he’d wanted to ride Maitimo until they both saw stars, for Russandol to fuck him into oblivion, for him to pull Maitimo’s hair until he came and then keep fucking himself on Russo’s sensitive cock...</p><p>But that was not happening now. Now was gentle, slow, unlike the harsh way Findekáno had taken Russandol; it was soft and sweet and somehow still overwhelming. Findekáno was almost surprised how much he liked it—but he would like anything to do with Russandol, and he could feel in this act just how deeply Maitimo loved him, and how much he loved Russo in return.</p><p>There would be time for all of that, he accepted. He’d get better with practice; they would have nights of wild, rough passion. But this tenderness was good too, and his orgasm was still blindingly intense after having been teased so long, gentleness notwithstanding. Findekáno came with Russo’s name on his lips, and would’ve heard his own on Russo’s too if he hadn’t captured that perfect mouth in a searing kiss.</p><p>This night, this revelation, this culmination—it wasn’t entirely what Findekáno had expected, no. But they had each other, now, and knew it, and would forever. And Finno <em>had</em> gotten what he’d wanted, Russo’s massive cock splitting him open, Russo’s seed dripping hot from his channel—but, most importantly, Russo’s arms around him, holding him tight, and Russo’s voice in his ear, rough and low, whispering endless praise and love so sweet that Findekáno wondered if he’d fallen into a dream.</p><p>But this was no dream—it was real—and it would only get better, in time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fingon visits Himring, and plays a game with his husband.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my favorite chapter of the three :)<br/>Thanks so much for your support - and enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maedhros woke to the feeling of Fingon already knuckle-deep inside him, a thrill of arousal running through his body. He moaned softly, and felt Fingon’s reproachful bite at his shoulder.  He fell still, relaxing, knowing that Finno would take care of him.</p><p>Or perhaps not. He caught a glimpse of ferociousness from Fingon’s mind this morn, and wondered with a shiver of twisted excitement what terrors his husband had planned for him. But even the thought of Fingon using him and discarding him for the day was delightful, the kind of game he loved. And Fingon knew that, and loved it too, and loved <em>Maedhros</em> too. Even after all Maedhros had endured, he always knew that one thing, that Fingon loved him. It was all that kept him breathing, some days.</p><p>Fingon stretched him quickly, economically, his urgency apparent. He’d arrived late the night before, and made Maedhros kneel and suck him off, which Maedhros had done gladly—but then his exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he fell into Maedhros’ bed with a sleepy order for him to follow. He was out before Maedhros snuggled in beside him, but even when his prince slumbered he was always bound to obey.</p><p>All that being said: it had been a good year and a half since Fingon had fucked him properly, and they were both aching for it now. Maedhros always made sure to thoroughly prepare Fingon before he entered him—he needed to, given his size, and they both remembered their first attempt—but they both enjoyed it when Fingon penetrated Maedhros before he was quite ready. Especially after Angband, a little pain got his blood flowing faster than anything.</p><p>Thus it was that Fingon pulled his fingers out perhaps a bit too soon, and only giving himself a cursory stroke with the oil, pressed into Maedhros with a terrible hunger that consumed him from the inside out.</p><p>Maedhros cried out quietly, relishing the burn, the feel of Fingon, his beloved husband, sliding home inside him at long last. He ached for this, wanted it so much; he was a slut for Fingon’s cock, he always had been, even before he fully understood what it was he wanted. Fingon thrust inside him with a guttural groan, his nails biting into the flesh of Maedhros’ arm, and panted out incoherent praises of Maedhros’ flesh.</p><p>“Oh I love you,” Fingon gasped, “ai, Maitimo, my Russo, you feel so <em>good</em>, you’re so tight for me, so hot, so firm—”</p><p>“For you,” Maedhros rasped, because that was the only thing he was certain of now. He had been a possession before, a <em>thing</em> for the Enemy to play with, and he knew how horrible it could be. But this—this was different, this was <em>Fingon</em>, and he surrendered to his lover willingly. He trusted Fingon, he loved Fingon, and for that reason he gave himself utterly to him. Even when Fingon was cruel it was always with love; Fingon understood. Fingon adored him. And in return, Maedhros was <em>his</em>.</p><p>Fingon trembled as he fucked Maedhros from behind, his arms wrapped firmly around his long, scarred torso. Maedhros’ arms were pinned to his sides, trapped in Fingon’s grip: he was helpless. True, he <em>could</em> break free, for he was a mighty nér even compared to Finno’s immense strength, but he did not <em>want</em> to. He could stand being helpless only for Finno; for his husband, he relished it.</p><p>Maedhros hung in that blissful moment, his fëa and hröa both full of his husband, his mind totally at peace. He was floating through the air, supported by a cloud of Fingon’s love; Fingon was his first and last thought, his only feeling. Even his own arousal was but a distant pressure; he didn’t need to come, so long as Fingon did.</p><p>And he did: Maedhros did not know how long Fingon fucked him, hard and merciless, but eventually he felt the hot torrent of Fingon’s seed filling him up, enough to bring him back down from the heavens. He nearly wept with the joy of it: he had missed this <em>so much</em>. He was a different elf in Fingon’s bed than he was as Himring’s lord; he liked himself better this way, even if he knew he was valuable against the Enemy in his other capacities. But in a better world, there would be no Enemy, nor a need for a warlord, and he would be only Fingon’s husband.</p><p>With a contented sigh, Fingon buried his face in Maedhros’ shoulders for a moment. “Love you,” he murmured against his skin. “Thank you.”</p><p>Maedhros was uncomfortably aware of his own arousal, now. His arms were still trapped, and he would not have moved to touch his cock without Fingon’s permission regardless, but his own need was growing with every second Fingon stayed inside him.</p><p>“Mm,” he mumbled. “Finno. Love you.” He swallowed, not wanting to ask too much, but he <em>needed</em>... “Can I...? Would you...?”</p><p>At this Fingon <em>laughed</em>, the fey thought Maedhros had caught the edge of earlier becoming clearer now.</p><p>“No,” he said wickedly. “Not now. Perhaps, if you are very good, I will let you come later. Tonight. But for now...”</p><p>He pulled out of Maedhros, who whimpered a little at the loss, immediately closing his legs to keep as much of Fingon’s seed inside him as he could. “Finno,” he begged, and he wasn’t even asking to come this time. He just—he wanted whatever it was Fingon was planning. He wanted it all.</p><p>“There’s a good boy,” Fingon said approvingly. “Don’t make a mess, now. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>He rolled out of bed, leaving Maedhros alone and cold and sticky. But soon he was back, as he had promised (Fingon always kept his promises), prying Maedhros’ cheeks apart again and pressing something hard and cool against his aching hole.</p><p><em>Ai</em>, he was wily, this one, Maedhros thought giddily as Fingon slid the plug home, stopping up his come inside of him. Maedhros went limp, somehow satiated despite not having come yet, not even the night before, and when Fingon stroked his hair he sighed happily.</p><p>“Do you think you can go the whole day like this?” Fingon mused. “Plugged up, stuffed full of my come, the toy pressing against your spot...do you think you can still have a face of stone before your warriors, if you cannot help but think of me?”</p><p>“Yes,” Maedhros said instantly, because while he was usually not in this <em>exact</em> predicament, the days where he could think only of Fingon were often.</p><p>“And if I told you not to come until I made you?” Fingon inquired. “If I made you ache and yearn until sunset, and then I came back and used you for my pleasure well into the night, and only let you find release come dawn again?”</p><p>“Whatever you want,” Maedhros vowed. “I could do it even without a ring on my cock.” It—would certainly not be <em>comfortable</em>, but he had endured far worse, and to take upon himself this sacrifice for the sake of <em>love</em>...yes. He could do that, and relish it.</p><p>Fingon rolled him over and kissed him wetly on the lips. “My brave warrior,” he said affectionately. “I don’t know if <em>I</em> could do it without a ring. They ought to call you the valiant one!”</p><p>“Finno,” Maedhros sighed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.</p><p>“Let’s give it a try, then,” Fingon said mischievously. “And perhaps in another few days, it will be your turn to take control. I expect your torment today will make you <em>quite</em> creative for that time.”</p><p>Maedhros smiled, taking a brief moment of his own to be wicked. He preferred being on the receiving end, just as Fingon preferred to inflict his delightful torments, but they both loved the game in any form, and Maedhros would enjoy anything Fingon did. And it was not as if he had given up his desire for command when he gave up the crown and exiled himself to the east. No, it just came in a different form, now.</p><p>But that would be later. Today, he was at Fingon’s mercy, and there was no place he would rather be.</p>
<hr/><p>It always astonished Fingon how well Maedhros suffered through his devious games. The mighty of lord of Himring, feared by enemy and ally alike, stalking about the ramparts with thunder in his eyes, his for the taking—that in and of itself was enough to make him giddy, but knowing that Maedhros did all his duties so fastidiously and faithfully all while stuffed full of Fingon’s come and a plug tormenting his every step...ai, that was something to behold, indeed.</p><p>They both had their responsibilities. Even when visiting his husband, the crown prince had duties to the High King. This trip was primarily to survey the king’s lands. At each stop, Fingon would speak with everyone from the servants to the steward, ride out with the warriors on patrol, take stock of their inventory and armory, and report back to Barad Eithel. He had first visited Finrod in Nargothrond, then Orodreth in Tol Sirion, and then Angrod and Aegnor in Dorthonion; during his stay in the east he would go with Maedhros to Himlad and Thargelion, little though his brothers-in-law liked his visits. Amrod and Amras had no keep of their own, and would be summoned to Helevorn in the shadow of Rerir to give their own accounts.</p><p>But Fingon would stay longest in Himring. It was here he felt most comfortable, for he was in some respects an honorary lord, being wed to Maedhros the Tall. The folk of Himring liked him, he thought, and he liked being here, so long as he came in the summer—even if wintertime gave him the excuse to stay longer. Truly his husband had picked the chilliest place in all of Beleriand to build his fortress: the Ever-cold it was, much to Fingon’s distaste, but it was bearable in the milder seasons.</p><p>Maedhros was a warlord, and nothing could break his focus. He endured cold and heat alike with a grim expression, ignored his injuries until each of his warriors had received their due treatment, and rarely smiled for any reason other than the satisfaction of an orc well-beheaded. Fingon adored him for his resolve and determination, and was all the more honored each time Maedhros softened for his sake. Oh, he loved his husband so.</p><p>But for today, his first day in his husband’s home, Fingon decided to indulge himself. He would be here for weeks yet, and there was no need to rush. What he wanted most was to spend time with Maedhros, and so instead of walking about Himring’s ramparts and inquiring after the state of the siege, he followed his husband around the keep’s interior, making small talk with the guards and servants, reading over reports from his Arafinwion cousins, and mostly just keeping an eye on Maedhros as he worked.</p><p>It was a time of relative peace: no enemy movements had been tracked for some months, and Maedhros’ duties for the day were focused on the state of the fields and dealing with various complaints and petitions from his people. He took these in his study, speaking with the certainty of a prince raised in Aman and the calculative swiftness of an experienced warlord.</p><p>Had there been any prospect of danger, Fingon would never have dreamed of playing this particular game. He shuddered to think of Maedhros riding out to war still in this...predicament. But that was not a risk, currently, and instead he watched keenly as Maedhros shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rose on trembling legs to greet a new petitioner, and winced as he worked quietly on his ledgers.</p><p>The morning hours provided several slight grimaces noticeable only to Fingon’s trained eye, but as the afternoon wore on, Maedhros grew more accustomed to the sensation of being so full. Still, every now and then he would glance slyly over to Fingon, his silver eyes burning, and Fingon’s heart would skip a beat.</p><p>Twice Fingon had to excuse himself, so impossibly arousing was his husband in this state, sharing this secret between them. A third time, Fingon simply stood and ordered Maedhros to come with him before entertaining his steward’s next item of business, and as a vassal to his liege Maedhros obeyed.</p><p>They kissed messily in a dark corridor, and Maedhros’ resolve fell away. He shook all over, his thoughts a muddle of desire and frustration; it was almost intoxicating enough for Fingon to kneel and suck him off right then, but he had promised a different end to this game. Instead he shoved his husband’s only hand down his trousers, and Maedhros, who always knew what Fingon wanted, stroked him off with practice confidence, all the while whimpering desperately in his ear.</p><p>As they straightened their collars and made to return to the study, Fingon slapped Maedhros firmly on the ass. Maedhros’ knees buckled, and he gripped Fingon’s arm so hard he thought it might bruise, but a quick touch against his mind assured Fingon that this was not yet too far.</p><p><em>You didn’t come now, did you?</em> he asked hungrily, almost wanting Maedhros to confess he had.</p><p>“No, my prince,” Maedhros rumbled, his voice catching slightly. “But—but if you do that again I might not be able to help it...”</p><p>Fingon considered, but eventually he only tapped his husband’s lower back ever so lightly. “Not yet,” he decided. “But when I let you, it will be <em>very </em>nice, I think.”</p><p>Maedhros pulled him into one last biting kiss, then pushed him back against the wall and strode off, his hips swaying. Fingon watched him go, dizzy, unsure of whether his husband was truly so far gone that he had no other choice than to walk like a slut, or if he was deliberately provoking him. Either way, his strut set Fingon’s blood to boiling again, but he restrained himself with a soft laugh and followed Maedhros back to the study.</p><p>At last evening drew near. Maedhros dismissed his petitioners and adjourned to supper, Fingon on his arm. The meal was a private affair, with only Fingon and Himring’s steward present, but it was not so private that Maedhros could let his guard down. Fingon noted gleefully that he had begun to sweat despite the chill of the night, and delighted in the shortness of his responses to his steward’s inquiries as to the business of the day. However stoic his husband appeared to the outside world, Fingon knew he was very distracted.</p><p>Fingon ate as slowly as he could manage, making sure to sneak his husband heated glances when he was sure the steward wasn’t looking. He slurped his noodles with a little more enthusiasm than was truly necessary, and when he requested Maedhros pass the beans he ran his fingers across his husband’s wrist before taking the bowl. Maedhros burned to the touch, glaring openly at him and sending a wave of his feeling along with the contact that left Fingon instantly hard, though he’d been halfway there already.</p><p>At last the steward excused herself, leaving Maedhros and Fingon alone. The moment the door shut, Maedhros pushed back his chair abruptly and grabbed Fingon, pulling him up into a ferocious kiss. He would’ve made Fingon take him right there on the table had Fingon not laughed and pushed him away.</p><p>“<em>I</em> am in charge this time,” he reminded his husband. “Your turn will come later. We do this in the bedroom, or not at all.”</p><p>Maedhros was instantly cowed, falling to his knees in one smooth motion. “Let me make it up to you,” he rasped, offering his mouth, and <em>oh</em> Fingon wanted that, had wanted it all day, but no—he had <em>plans</em>, and none of them included ruining the cleaning staff’s evening.</p><p>He dragged Maedhros to his feet, kissed him soundly (he couldn’t help himself), and then pulled him to the door.</p><p>“Where have you stored the ropes?” he asked as they approached their bedroom, and he felt Maedhros’ shudder through his whole body.</p><p>“You will be the death of me,” Maedhros croaked, but he pointed to the correct drawer and lay down upon the bed, stripping himself slowly for Fingon’s benefit.</p><p>He always took Fingon’s breath away, even now. Especially now. Fingon paused to appreciate the expanse of scarred flesh offered to him so willingly, watching as Maedhros parted his legs to reveal his red-rimmed hole still stretched wide around the plug, a tiny trail of come dripping down his leg, his cock hard and red and weeping.</p><p>He was still the most beautiful thing Fingon had ever seen. That cock still made him hot and bothered like he was a young nér again. Ai, he was even more swollen than usual today, and Fingon altered his plans a little. He needed nothing more than Maedhros’ cock inside him—and he would not wait for long.</p>
<hr/><p>Maedhros was aflame, more than he usually was as the bright-burning eldest son of the Spirit of Fire. He thought he had done well keeping his composure through the long, long day, but he didn’t know how much longer he could wait. And yet—if Fingon toyed with him longer, it would be a sweet agony he endured, as it always was. Still, when it was <em>his</em> turn to be in charge...</p><p>Fingon tied him up swiftly, barely checking the knots; he, too, was desperate. He shed his robes quickly, not bothering to put on a show, though Maedhros watched him hungrily regardless. He moaned aloud as Fingon shucked his pants and his thick cock sprang free; he couldn’t move much, restrained as he was, but he rocked his hips, fucking his swollen, sensitive insides with the toy as best he could. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough, he needed Fingon, he needed—</p><p>“I don’t need oil,” he hissed as Fingon unstoppered the bottle. “You’ve had me wet and loose and ready for you <em>all day</em>—”</p><p>“It’s not for you.” Fingon grinned, and <em>oh</em>, Maedhros had married an evil nér. In his haze of arousal and frustration, he was sure this was worse than any of the torments he had endured in Angband—except that he had chosen this, agreed to it, and he could <em>feel </em>how much pleasure it brought his husband, his excitement rolling freely through their bond.</p><p>Fingon climbed onto Maedhros’ stomach, and Maedhros moaned. Ai, this contact was everything, even if it wasn’t where he wanted it. He tried to lean forward and lap at Fingon’s cock, but his husband chuckled and pushed his chin back.</p><p>“Watch, for now,” he ordered, and Maedhros nodded, his eyes fixed on the nér on top of him.</p><p>Fingon slipped two oiled fingers inside of himself, and Maedhros nearly wept, the feeling overwhelming him across their bond. Fingon was so beautiful like this, and Maedhros knew how long it would take for him to prepare himself for Maedhros’ big cock. Not for the first time, he wished he was smaller, that the process might be easier, but Fingon caught his frustration and rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Don’t be an idiot, Russo,” he scolded. “It might take time, but I would not have you any other way. Do you really think I could’ve learned to take your arm if I hadn’t already grown accustomed to your cock?”</p><p>Maedhros tried to answer, but the memories and feelings his husband stirred up only let him mumble out something incomprehensible even to him. He would be completely wrecked after this; he already <em>was</em> wrecked.</p><p>“Finno,” Maedhros slurred, the only word he could hold onto, but Fingon only pressed a finger to his lips and continued to prepare himself.</p><p>Eventually, Maedhros could barely pay attention even to his husband’s moans, surrendering to the fog of desire that clouded his mind and body. He knew not how long he lay there at Fingon’s mercy, his husband fucking himself open first on his fingers and then with another one of his toys. But at last Fingon was hard and whimpering and open, rutting against Maedhros’ chin, and then he rolled off and pulled the toy out of himself.</p><p>“Alright,” he said breathlessly, moving to hover over Maedhros’ cock. “Be a good boy and don’t come until I tell you, alright?”</p><p>“Fffffffmmmnngng,” Maedhros managed to get out, but as soon as Fingon sank down onto him he <em>screamed</em>, refocusing, and it took all the willpower he had left not to buck his hips up and spend into his husband immediately.</p><p>Fingon moaned, long and low, settling into his favored position. “Eru, Maitimo,” he hissed, “you always feel better than I remembered.”</p><p>“Finno,” Maedhros said, his voice strangled.</p><p>Fingon shifted his hips and began to ride him, rising up and down slowly at first, then with greater speed and enthusiasm. He clenched around Maedhros’ cock in a way that made tears roll down his cheeks with the effort not to lose himself before Finno told him he could. It was so much that even the insistent nudge of the plug inside him faded into the background, though every now and again it would remind him it was there with a jolt of glorious pleasure-pain.</p><p>“Ai,” Fingon moaned, “Russo...<em>Russo</em>... Remember when we first did this? I want it so badly, but you’re so—” he rocked his hips, taking Maedhros deeper, <em>deeper</em>— “so <em>big</em>, melindo, it was a tight fit. But we managed in the—<em>hnnffff</em>—in the end, and it was good, wasn’t it?”</p><p>“Good,” Maedhros croaked out. <em>But I—you fucked me first, and that was even...even better.</em></p><p>“If—you’re a good boy for me—” Fingon panted— “you can have my cock again. Doesn’t that—sound nice, Russandol?”</p><p>Maedhros wept openly. It was so much, too much; he had been denied too long, a year and a half since Fingon had let him come; well, he’d taken himself in hand in the interim but now Finno was <em>here</em> and <em>tormenting</em> him, all night and all day—</p><p><em>Can’t. much longer,</em> he sent across their bond desperately. He had never been more overwhelmed, consumed, <em>owned</em> by Fingon; he wanted to be a good boy but if he didn’t come in the next minute he thought he might die—or at least, pass out.</p><p>“Fuck,” Fingon gasped, “oh, I <em>feel</em> you, Russo—not just inside me but—but how <em>you</em> feel—oh, I’ve been so cruel to you—”</p><p><em>Please please please,</em> Maedhros begged.</p><p>Finno cried out, leaning down to give Maedhros a vicious kiss, biting at his lips and pulling his hair. He rose almost entirely off of Maedhros’ cock before slamming back down in a movement that made Maedhros lose all his breath, and it was in that moment that he whispered, <em>Alright, my Russo, it’s time. Come for me, love, come in me, fill me up—</em></p><p>With the very first word, Maedhros sobbed wildly and screamed, finally letting his body have what had craved for so very long. His vision went white, pleasure overwhelming him with such intensity that he lost sense of who and where he was. He pulsed into Fingon in endless waves, hips bucking involuntarily, the ropes at his wrists and ankles chafing against dry skin, and felt his husband crying out with him, dragged along with him into release.</p><p>It was quite possibly the longest and most intense orgasm he had ever experienced, and as he came down from that glorious high he wondered dizzily what Fingon would do next to take him even higher. It would be some time before he managed it, probably, but Maedhros had no doubt that his Finno would find a way to push his limits even further into bliss.</p><p>Fingon shook, grinding down on Maedhros’ oversensitive cock and whimpering, tears streaming down his face. Maedhros moaned, pain and pleasure shooting through him; he didn’t know if he would be able to come for, for another <em>week</em>, that had taken so much out of him—except that Fingon was here, and with Fingon he could do anything, and Fingon wanted more.</p><p>Still, he couldn’t handle any more of <em>this</em>. He made to shove Fingon off his cock, but the ropes bound him still, and he sobbed out, “Finno, enough, I can’t—”</p><p>Fingon stopped, sensing he really meant it this time, and slowly rose off him, mouth open in a long sigh of relief. He hovered over Maedhros for a moment, his gaping hole dripping with come, and <em>Valar</em> that was not doing anything to stop Maedhros’ spent body from trying to rouse itself again.</p><p>“Clean me up, darling,” Finno rasped. “Then I’ll see about your reward.”</p><p>Maedhros nodded eagerly, his every movement reminding him of the plug still pressed against his spot. Fingon gently lowered himself to sit on Maedhros’ face, and Maedhros licked his own come out of his husband’s ass, giddy with the privilege and the filthiness. Fingon moaned appreciatively as Maedhros dragged his tongue across his walls, tasting himself, sharing the sensation across their bond.</p><p><em>I love you,</em> Maedhros thought, drunk on happiness and the relief of his long-awaited release.</p><p>“Ai, Russo, you have always undone me,” Fingon panted. “I love you, I love you so, oh <em>darling</em> you are perfect, so beautiful, so good at this..”</p><p>Maedhros sent him a vision of this same act but with their positions altered: in it, Fingon was the one tied to the bed while Maedhros knelt and ate him out slowly and thoroughly. A ring was tight around his husband’s cock, preventing him from obeying Maedhros’ teasing enticements to come already, he’d stop if Fingon just came for him...</p><p>At this, Fingon wriggled away, rolling back down to kiss Maedhros on the lips. “Yes,” he growled. “My plan worked. You are <em>very</em> creative when you are frustrated, vanimelda.”</p><p>As he spoke, he reached down and played with the base of the plug. He didn’t quite fuck Maedhros with it, but the slight movement still sent shocks of electricity through his hröa, and he shook all over.</p><p>“You are so good for me,” Fingon said affectionately, kissing his throat. “My mighty Lord of Himring, so obedient, so humble. So willing to bend for me, and only for me.”</p><p>“You,” Maedhros croaked. That was all that needed to be said: it was all for Fingon. <em>He</em> was all for Fingon.</p><p>Fingon abandoned the toy to untie Maedhros’ wrists. “It’s time I be as good to you as you always are to me,” he murmured. When Maedhros was free, he attempted to grab his husband and reverse their positions, but he found himself strangely weak, scarcely able to lift even the stump of his right arm.</p><p>“I’ll take care of you, Russonya, don’t worry,” Fingon promised, and it was like they were young again, Findekáno kissing Maitimo like nothing else mattered, and in that moment it was true.</p><p>Fingon pried the toy out of him, and Maedhros whimpered as each tiny jostle overwhelmed him. Somehow his length began to fill again, and now Fingon pressed gentle kisses to its base, to his sensitive balls, all the way down to his now-empty hole.</p><p>Well, not quite <em>empty</em>. Fingon’s come leaked out of him, slow and sticky and old, but Fingon still pressed his tongue in and licked him clean. He spat the mess on the floor (Maedhros didn’t blame him; it wasn’t as if seed tasted good, especially if it had been inside of someone’s ass all day) and then continued to mouth at his hole until Maedhros was whimpering and writhing sluggishly, his ankles still bound. He felt so weak; he couldn’t even move to fuck himself on Fingon’s tongue.</p><p><em>Do you want something, my dear?</em> Fingon teased.</p><p><em>You,</em> Maedhros responded instantly. <em>Please. Have I been a good boy for you?</em></p><p>Fingon rose, kissing him square on the lips. “The very best,” he murmured, his voice warm with affection, and the link between their fëar flooded with love as strong and pure as the day of their bonding, or stronger. <em>I would have no other than you, my Russandol.</em></p><p><em>Then </em>have<em> me already,</em> Maedhros insisted, trying not to whine, and Fingon laughed into his mouth before rearranging them to press smoothly inside of Maedhros.</p><p>He filled Maedhros swiftly, and Maedhros sighed in relief, his hröa relaxing. He loved when Fingon did this, loved him all the time and every way they united, but it felt so <em>right</em> when they were joined this way. Their games and urgency fell away as they came together, close in hröa and fëa, simply loving one another with their whole selves.</p><p><em>Findekáno,</em> Maedhros whispered.</p><p>Fingon moved inside him, slow and steady and peaceful, as if there was nothing in all of Arda but the two of them. <em>Maitimo</em>, he sighed. <em>I love you so.</em></p><p>They hung in this blissful unity for an endless moment, cherishing each other, but they were both worn out from a long day of wicked teasing and soon Fingon moaned softly into Maedhros’ shoulder and spent with a full-body shudder. He shifted, thrusting a few more brief, precise times, hitting Maedhros right where he felt it most, and Maedhros followed him with a low and ragged cry.</p><p>They lay together for a moment, panting, but all too soon Fingon winced and extricated himself from Maedhros’ body. “Ahh,” he hissed. “We’ll both be sore tomorrow, I think...”</p><p><em>Worth it,</em> Maedhros thought drowsily.</p><p>Fingon chuckled quietly as gave them a cursory wipe-down to rid them of the worst of their mess. <em>It is always worth it, to be with you, </em>he whispered.</p><p>Maedhros felt drowsiness claim him, and for once he had no fear of his dreams. Fingon snuggled into his embrace, curling up with him in his tangled sheets, and he knew the only thing his mind could dwell on this night would be his husband, his good and perfect and beautiful husband, something no darkness could ever touch.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!<br/>You can find me on tumblr <a href="http://arofili.tumblr.com/">@arofili</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>